Dramatic Jurisdiction
by plazmah
Summary: Bones & Alias crossover. Brennan and Booth's latest case takes a turn for the worse when they get wrapped up international conspiracies and dangerous men who will do anything to keep what they know a secret. Will the CIA help them?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Dramatic Jurisdiction (1/?)  
Author: smithar  
Rating: PG  
Fandom(s): Alias/Bones  
Pairing(s): Eventually Brennan/Booth & Sydney/Vaughn  
Summary: Brennan and Booth's latest case takes a turn for the worse when they get wrapped up international conspiracies and dangerous men who will do anything to keep what they know a secret. Will the CIA help them?  
Notes: My knowledge of the Alias universe is spotty at best, so please bear with me. All I know is that Sydney kicks ass. I don't own anything Bones or Alias related. Unbetaed.

---------------------------

Dammit. She had lost her earpiece in the struggle with the security guard and now she was flying blind. There was nothing left to do but keep going, to get what she had come for and leave before anyone responded to the security breach.

The layout was exactly as she had memorized: long hallway with a sliding door entry to the right. She bypassed the touchpad and the doors slid open with a quiet hiss. The lighting was dim inside the institute, all the lab workers having gone home. She circled the raised platform at the center of the lab, knowing where she had to go: past the platform, into a room on the right corner of the lab, where the stored all the remains and related evidence.

The room was large and silent as a tomb, faintly white drawers stacked across the wall and to the ceiling. She needed to find drawer 1097C. Quietly grabbing a step stool nearby, she found the drawer she was looking for and scooped out the sealed envelope that held all the evidence relating to the victim. She had found it. Now she had to get out.

She was just leaving the room and turning the corner when she nearly ran into a large man and a young woman. Dammit. If she hadn't lost her earpiece, Marshall would have told her to watch out for them. The man was dressed in a suit and tie, and his entire persona screamed government official. She knew he had to be carrying a weapon. The woman looked like an administrator, someone who worked inside the institute, but she couldn't be sure.

The man frowned warily. "Who are you?"

Sydney smiled, smiled the way she knew made her look innocent and youthful. Then she took a step back and delivered a roundhouse kick to the man's face, knocking him out cold. That took care of the bigger threat to her mission.

Unfortunately, she had misjudged the woman.

Instead of freezing or asking questions or yelling for help, the woman lunged forward, throwing powerful and precise punches that caught Sydney off guard momentarily. The woman tried to knock her feet from out under her, but Sydney stepped aside easily, having regained her composure. She managed to grasp the woman's wrists from behind, twisting them into a moderately painful position. With the other hand she covered the woman's mouth. It was a long couple minutes and the woman would not stop struggling against her.

"I don't want to hurt you, I really don't. But if you don't stop..." Sydney made sure the woman saw her put her boot on the unconscious man's neck. ".. I will crush his throat. Understand?"

When the woman nodded, Sydney pushed the brunette down to the ground, allowing herself enough time to draw her weapon.

She pointed the weapon at the woman. "Do not follow me. I want you to count to one hundred before you alert the authorities, got it?"

"Got it." The woman's voice was eerily calm and even, but her eyes flashed with anger. And a little bit of embarassment, if Sydney wasn't mistaken. As if she were ashamed that someone had beaten her at hand-to-hand combat. _Who _**is **_this woman?_

There was no time to contemplate. Grabbing the package that had fallen on the floor, she backed away from the woman and the fallen man, retracing her steps until she was out of the Jeffersonian Institute and ready to be extracted.

---

**Three days earlier...**

"So? What's the scoop on this guy, Bones?" Booth glanced up at the sky, which had been threatening to rain ever since they had arrived on the scene.

Brennan's gloved hands drifted over the body, poking and prodding at the remains. "Male, epiphysial fusion suggests the victim was somewhere between thirty and thirty-five years old. I see cut marks on the third and fourth costal grooves, and there appears to be severe burning trauma to the dermis and epidermis. But I won't be able to determine if being burned was cause of death until I get the body back to the lab. Cam will probably be able to tell us more about the body, like if he died from smoke inhalation."

Booth frowned. "Smoke inhalation? You mean like being trapped in a burning building?" He gestured to the field and the pond that they were standing next to. "I don't see any burning buildings around here."

She finally looked up at him. "Do you see any signs of recent fire activity? Any charred plant life?"

"No." Booth conceeded. "So... he was caught in a fire somewhere else, then stabbed, and his body was dragged to the edge of a pond in the middle of nowhere? Sounds suspicious. Makes no sense, but it's still suspicious."

Brennan pondered at his comment as she gave directions for the body to be packaged and delivered to the Jeffersonian. "Regular suspicious or murder suspicious?"

"Well, why don't you tell me, Bones?" Booth replied with a slight grin as she stood up.

"I can't do that. Doing so would undermine my objectivity." Something caught her eye a few feet away and she walked towards a tangled patch of weeds, kneeling down.

"Found something?" Booth peered over the forensic anthropologist's shoulder.

She picked up the glossy disk, holding it between her fingers and examining the prongs and ridges that ran along its black edges. "It looks like a data storage device of some sort, but I can't be sure. I've never seen anything like it."

"Me neither. That's pretty high tech stuff right there."

"What would you know about high tech stuff? I thought you were more of an old-fashioned, hurt the street sort of agent."

"It's _'hit the street'_, Bones." Booth corrected, swiping the drop of moisture that landed on his cheek. "Let's just bag that thing and get out of here, okay? It's starting to rain."

-------------TBC-------------


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Dramatic Jurisdiction (2/?)  
Author: smithar  
Rating: PG  
Fandom(s): Alias/Bones  
Pairing(s): None. Maybe BoothxBrennan & SydneyxVaughn  
Summary: Brennan and Booth's latest case takes a turn for the worse when they get wrapped up international conspiracies and dangerous men who will do anything to keep what they know a secret. Will the CIA help them?  
Notes: My knowledge of the Alias universe is spotty at best, so please bear with me. All I know is that Sydney kicks ass. I don't own anything Bones or Alias related. Unbetaed.

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**Two days earlier...**

"Ivanov Melchin." Sloane said, bringing up the next slide with the face of a man with a sharp jawline and a crooked nose. "Two days ago, an organization known as The Foundation kidnapped him from his suburban house, and murdered him execution style before torching his body and leaving it in an empty field on the outskirts of D.C. The reason they did so was for this..." The next slide came up, displaying a schematic that Sydney vaguely recognized as the chemical flow of a processing facility. Engineering data.

"This is a detailed process that Ivanov, a renowned chemical engineer, was working on as part of his contract with an undisclosed private company. This company, which was based in Russia, was working on a series of covert operations to develop a special type of dirty bomb, far more dangerous than anything used up to date. We believe The Foundation wanted the details of the chemical process for their own use. While Ivanov's body was being disposed of, Foundation operatives searched his house and found no trace of the plans. But _this _was collected as evidence at the location where Ivanov's body was dumped..." Sloane went to the next slide, which displayed a crime scene photograph of a small disc unlike anything Sydney had seen before. Then again, that wasn't a rare occurrence with this job.

Sloane continued gravely. "This is the memory unit that contains the process maps to creating Ivanov's dirty bomb, and it's The Foundation will go to any length to get it. It is up to us to retrieve the item from where it is being housed, at the Jeffersonian Institute."

Marshall cleared his throat, nervously speaking up. "Wouldn't it make more sense if we just, you know... asked them?"

"Doing so would alert The Foundation of our involvement." Jack interjected plainly. "If we give away that we know about their activities, they will start taking extra precautions and it will be that much harder for us to keep track of them."

Sloane nodded and turned to Sydney. "Marshall will be outside the building, tapping the Jeffersonian's security system and monitoring any activity inside, relaying that information to you. Review the building plan with Dixon, he'll be with Marshall in case we need to perform an extraction." He smiled kindly. "We want to make this as easy for you as possible."

Sydney nodded, repressing the urge to smack the smile off Sloane's face. The benevolent act disgusted her; it was obvious he wanted the chemical processes for his own schemes. But she still managed to give him a deferential, innocent look. "Thanks. I'm on it."

---

**Present time...**

"She kicked my ass." Booth couldn't help but sound affronted as he sat on the examination room's bed, pressing a bag of ice to his swollen forehead.

"She kicked Dr. Brennan's ass; _of course_ she kicked your ass." Cam quipped, standing in the corner with her arms folded across her chest.

"Are you saying I'm easier to take down than Bones? Great, now my head _and _my ego are bruised." Booth muttered before turning to Brennan, who was re-examining his injuries with intermittent touches and a worried look on her face. "Would you quit it? I'm fine."

Brennan ignored his request and continued, fingers grazing across his bruises and cuts. "You did the same thing to me in New Orleans, it's only fair." Eventually satisfied that Booth was indeed okay, she turned to Cam. "You didn't have to come here, Dr. Saroyan. It's very late and we could have dealt with the doctors ourselves."

Cam scoffed. "Are you kidding? I want to see this investigation through from beginning to end. No one kicks the ass of my people on my own turf and gets away with it."

Brennan was about to reply when there was a knock on the examination room door, and the three of them turned to see a blond-haired man in a well made suit standing in the doorway. He stepped inside and closed the door silently, and Booth felt himself tensing just as Brennan and Cam exchanged worried glances. They must have sensed what he sensed, that this was someone used to keeping things quiet, someone from the government.

The man pulled a small device out of his pocket and placed it on the counter. "Sorry to be so abrupt. My name's Michael Vaughn; I work for the CIA and I need your cooperation in a very important matter."

---

"I don't know what this means." Brennan's face was lined with intense concentration as she stared at the numbers and letters in front of her.

**1190 C1C4 #999999**

"Yeah, I don't have a clue what this is supposed to be saying either." Booth turned away from the computer screen and looked at Vaughn. "You're absolutely positive this has something to do with the Jeffersonian?"

Vaughn nodded, a somewhat worried look on his face. "We didn't have the chance to make a switch, so Sydney hid the plans somewhere in the building as she left. This code is all I have to go on. SD-6 doesn't think very highly of operatives who lose the items they were sent to recover, she's being questioned right now."

Brennan's concentration didn't waver. "Wait, maybe I do know what this means..." She was silent for a moment longer, then leaped out of her chair and strode out of her office, leaving the two men in confusion.

"She do that a lot?"

"You have no idea."

They followed Brennan out and saw her walking towards Angela's office, peering at the paintings and statues adorning every surface. She approached a small sculpture on one of Angela's shelves, a grey model of a woman's head and face. Lifting the sculpture up, Brennan looked into the hollow neck cavity and smiled. Reaching in, she pulled out the memory unit.

Booth whistled appreciatively. "Whoa, that was pretty cool, Bones."

"Thank you, but it wasn't that hard to figure out." She replied with a shrug. "The string of nines referred to-"

Vaughn interrupted hastily. "I don't want to be rude but I have to leave immediately; Sydney's safety depends on it."

"Of course." Brennan handed over the memory unit to Vaughn with a nod. "I hope she's okay, even if she beat me at hand-to-hand combat."

"She was just doing what she had to do to survive." Booth said, shaking Vaughn's free hand.

Vaughn smiled slightly as he shook Booth's hand. "Thanks. I'll be contacting the two of you and your boss within the next two days; you and your team already know too much and we'll need to debrief you on what you can and can't share with the public."

Booth looked a little disgruntled as he watched Vaughn leave. "Now I remember why government secrets bother me so much."

"It's not a big deal, once you get used to it." Brennan mused, remembering all the classified projects she had been involved in over the years. "As I was saying, the string of nines referred to-"

-------------TBC-------------


End file.
